


Memento Vivere (Remember to Live)

by justbygrace



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Backwards Regeneration, Descriptions of PTSD, F/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:42:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8819002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbygrace/pseuds/justbygrace
Summary: I wanted to see what would happen if Ten "regenerated" into Nine. This is the result. Still very much an AU.Memento Vivere -- "remember to live"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story is from several years ago now.

Everyone agreed that they had a perfect love story. Childhood sweethearts, voted most likely to marry, the envy of all of their friends. He was a pre-med student bent on helping and healing; she was the one who had friends on every rung of the social ladder. Their future included a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a dog. Yes, Rose Tyler and John Smith were well on their way to a storybook happily ever after. And then the war came.

John was one of the first to sign up after a long talk with her about the pros and cons. She was reticent at first — he wasn't really cut out to be a soldier, not with his fancy suits and Joplin-esque coat and sticky-up hair and kid-in-a-candy-shop nature. But he was adamant, his country needed doctors on the front lines to make sure as many of its young people came back as possible, and he promised with words and lips and tongue and teeth that he would be back, he would always come back to her.

Rose was there when his company shipped out, looking at the others who had been left behind with teary eyes, wondering how on earth any of them were going to survive this. No one could ever accuse her of being passive, though, and she quickly formed a support group. Together they shared the infrequent letters and notes from their sweethearts, watched the news with bated breath, and got together to help watch kids or pets or just to lend a listening ear and a bottle of whiskey. 

As weeks turned into months, Rose went through the gamut of emotions, from longing to frustrated, proud to angry. The time she came across a group protesting the war she launched into a tirade that put the fear of god into their hearts, but by the next afternoon she was ready to be out on the streets protesting the war herself. When news came that Donna Noble's husband-to-be was taken out by an IED, Rose was ready to board the next plane to the war zone herself and bodily drag John home to safety, but instead she surrounded Donna with as much love and comfort as possible and tried to block out the thoughts of anything similar happening to John. 

The static-filled phone calls were all to brief and hardly gave Rose any hints as to John's state of mind. The war zone he was in was too top-secret to allow things like Skype and his letters were filled with entire blacked out sections. From the few things that did come through, though, Rose had the distinct feeling that John was changing, that the front lines and death and destruction were altering her fun-loving man into something new. She knew a few of the other young lovers in her support group buried their fear in affairs and Rose had her own fair share of offers, but her heart had belonged to John since she was fifteen and she couldn't take it back now. So she clung to the bits of information that she did get and cried herself to sleep wearing John's old shirts that were beginning to no longer smell of him.

At long last, sixteen months after he was deployed, the news came that John's company was returning home. Once again Rose found herself standing in a crowd of tearful people, though this time their tears were of joy as they watched their men and women disembark. As she waited for John, Rose watched the emotional reunions going on around her, enjoying their happiness. Finally a strong pair of arms was around her and she was being spun in a circle, burying her face in John's neck and clutching his jacket with both hands. When he eventually loosened his grip enough for her to see his face, she couldn't repress her shocked gasp. He had cut off all his hair, resulting in a military style buzz that in retrospect she should have expected, but hadn't; there was a scar running down the left side of his face, and a haunted look about him that she had never seen before. The look in his eyes was nervous and she realized he was afraid that she would reject him. She answered his fear by kissing him hard and determining to leave everything else for now.

The first night was joyous as they relearned each other's bodies, and if his grip was too tight, her nails leaving deep scratches, well, it was not completely surprising. The first day was spent in much the same way. The first week followed suit. One week and one day after he returned they had their second-first argument. And it was a bad one. Accusations were flung, angry words were said, and John stormed out, leaving Rose in stunned disbelief in the middle of their flat. He was back two hours later bearing an order of her favorite chips and a hopeful, wary expression. She forgave him because...because she did, because she loved him even when he traded his Joplin coat for a leather jacket, his long hair for a buzz cut, his manic grin for a cautious tilt of his lips. 

Adjusting back to civilian life was hard for John, and it was evident in everything he did, from how he jumped at loud noises to his sudden wanderlust to his need for less sleep. Rose stuck with him through it all, knowing his angry words weren't about them, his unwillingness to share what had happened was not because he didn't love her, his frequent late night jaunts were to clear his head. Living as part of a couple again wasn't easy on her either and she knew that she would grow angry at him for demanding to know her whereabouts and she was having a hard time dealing with the sudden close quarters again. Their fights were spectacular, their make-up sessions fantastic, but Rose was afraid that returning to some semblance of normal might very well break them both.

One evening about three months after his return, Rose was finishing up her work shift when John suddenly barged through the doors begging that she come with him. She barely had time to ask where and why and how before he was dragging her out of the building and into a waiting cab. He wouldn't respond to her repeated inquiries on their destination, but there was something desperate about the set of his lips that made Rose tighten her grip on his hand and settle in for the ride. 

Their destination ended up being a bus that took them to a train and then on to a plane to Europe. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs and the money in their account when they finally touched down in Spain, but the moment that John smelled the different air he seemed to relax. They set off on a half-biking, half-riding, half-walking tour, stopping where they wanted and when. And slowly, so very slowly, John began to share his story. While sitting next to a fountain in Rome he told her about trying to reattach limbs, while sharing chocolates in Geneva he explained about operating on friends and comrades, while visiting the Louvre in Paris he shared how he watched an entire battalion get blown to bits. Through every horrific story, Rose held his hand, offering quiet comfort, and refusing to leave even when he shouted off the side of the Alps that he was dangerous man and she would be better off without him.

A month turned into six turned into a year and still they did not return home. Instead they traveled, moving from Europe into Asia and from there to Africa. When their funds ran low they stopped, setting up house in whatever town they found themselves in and getting to know the locals. If there was a need they helped out, if there was a problem they pitched in, if there was a hole they filled it. Through it all their relationship flourished and they grew closer than ever. He proposed in the middle of a tsunami while they were both trapped in a tree, afraid for their lives, and gripping each other tightly. They were married in a tiny village in a language neither of them could speak with people they had never seen but with whom they partied well into the night. 

There are still people who say they have a perfect love story. Especially when they see them side-by-side, him using his medical skills to save a life, her using her human skills to make them want to live. Occasionally they go back to visit family, but they never stay long, always eager for the next adventure. No one has many predictions for them these days and that's how they like it. Yes, Rose Tyler and John Smith have a love for the storybooks. And it can outlast any war.


End file.
